


Je Ne Sais Quoi

by scatterglory



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Hollywood, M/M, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-14
Updated: 2011-08-14
Packaged: 2017-10-22 15:01:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/239304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatterglory/pseuds/scatterglory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Overgrown "encore" to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/230430">La Petite Mort</a>, wherein Arthur is still the director of a vampire show and Merlin is still a cameraman, and they do a great deal more than just neck-biting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Je Ne Sais Quoi

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:**  This is a work of fan-love; I make no profit, and claim no ownership.
> 
>  **AN:** This was supposed to be a thing, but then it turned into a _thing_. A million thanks to the inimitable kathkin for the fantastic beta job! :)

Arthur glanced up from the script he was pretending to review when the door to his trailer slammed shut. He smirked when Merlin flinched at the noise, feeling a thrill run through him at the way Merlin's ears were already flaming red.

“So,” Arthur drawled, allowing amusement to color his tone. “Merlin, was it?”

Merlin nodded, swallowing audibly.

“Got a last name?”

“Emrys.”

“Merlin Emrys. Merrrlin Emmmrys.” Arthur rolled the name over in his mouth as he got up and stalked over to where Merlin stood, eying Arthur warily even as his cheeks burned.

Arthur stopped well inside Merlin's personal space, planting his hands on his hips and raking his eyes up and down Merlin's body. Merlin fidgeted, and Arthur's smile widened.

“ _How_ have I never noticed you before?” he asked. “Well, granted, I don't usually pay attention to the crew unless they're fucking up, but…” He trailed off, and made a stirring motion with his finger. Merlin stared at him blankly for a moment, and Arthur pursed his lips in annoyance. He repeated the motion more emphatically—Merlin _finally_ caught on and turned around awkwardly. Arthur let out a low whistle of approval at the way Merlin's black jeans clung to his gorgeous backside.

“Yeah, _definitely_ should have noticed _that_ before,” he chuckled.

Reaching out with both hands, he grabbed Merlin's ass. Merlin yelped and flailed slightly as Arthur pressed up against him—Arthur was forced to release his grip and wrap his arms around Merlin's waist to steady him.

“So, _Mer_ lin,” he purred into a crimson ear, “how does a gorgeous cameraman like you,” he licked the skin just below Merlin's ear, “come to be on my show, anyway?”

“M-Mr. Pendragon!” Merlin gasped, his entire body shuddering under Arthur's touch.

“Mr. Pendragon?” Arthur chuckled, low in his throat. “Honestly, Merlin, given what I'm about to do to you, I'd say we're a bit past the formalities, wouldn't you?”

To prove his point, Arthur ducked his head and nipped sharply at the skin just above Merlin's collarbone. Merlin cried out and arched back against Arthur as Arthur sucked at the spot with abandon. He grinned to himself at the soft, high noises that escaped involuntarily from Merlin's throat each time Arthur's tongue lapped over the mark he was leaving.

Merlin's knees wobbled, and he half-sagged in Arthur's arms. Arthur stopped his assault on Merlin's neck to nuzzle below his ear. “You're loving this, aren't you?” he murmured. “No wonder you wanted to work on a vampire show.”

Still clasping Merlin to him with one hand, Arthur reached up with his other to tip Merlin's chin back. Merlin's head rested on Arthur's shoulder, and Arthur ran his hand up and down the line of Merlin's neck. Merlin moaned as Arthur's fingers skated over his pulse, and Arthur had to bite his lip to keep from thrusting viciously into the curve of Merlin's ass.

“Could you come?” he asked hoarsely. “With me just touching you like this?”

“T-think so,” Merlin said breathlessly, and Arthur bit back a moan of his own.

“No,” he ground out. “I want you to come with me inside you.”

“Oh, _God_ ,” Merlin gasped helplessly. Taking that as a 'yes,' Arthur spun them around and pushed Merlin forward, more roughly than he'd intended, causing Merlin to nearly collapse across his desk. Arthur pressed up against him immediately, pinning him in place as he reached across the desk to fetch the necessary supplies from a drawer.

“Pants,” he growled. Merlin squirmed under him, struggling to undo his jeans with Arthur still on top of him. Arthur backed off enough to undo his own fly, rolling the condom on and slicking himself with practiced ease. When Merlin's jeans slipped down off his narrow hips, revealing an unbearably perfect ass, it was all Arthur could do to keep from fucking him through the desk without a second thought.

But he remembered his manners. He pressed the tip of one wet finger into Merlin, and was rewarded with a cry that went straight to his cock. The finger slid home, and Merlin keened, thrusting back against Arthur as his whole body begged for more.

“Yesss,” Arthur hissed as he added another finger. “ _Take_ it.”

Merlin's ass clenched around his fingers, tight and hot and perfect, and Arthur scissored him open, stretching him just enough to add a third finger.

Merlin made a noise that would have brought security running if they'd been in another trailer; as it was, Arthur just grinned. “A screamer. I like it.”

Deciding he'd waited long enough, he withdrew his fingers from the heaven of Merlin's ass. Merlin's subsequent whine of deprivation turned into a moan of absolute pleasure as Arthur _finally_ pressed inside him.

“Fu-u-uck,” Arthur breathed as Merlin shuddered underneath him. This was _so good,_ he didn't think he'd ever be able to move again—

—and then Merlin clenched around him and rolled his hips, and Arthur was pounding into him mercilessly, over and over, his guttural cries blending with Merlin's moans. In no time at all, Arthur felt his own arousal peaking and bit down, hard, on Merlin's shoulder. Merlin screamed, his entire body convulsing around Arthur as he came. Arthur followed Merlin over the edge a moment later, collapsing on top of Merlin's limp for as stars danced across his vision.

After a long moment where neither of them could do anything but breathe, Arthur reluctantly pulled out. Throwing away the condom, he looked over at Merlin. Still bent over the desk, Merlin's dazed blue eyes looked up at him, and Arthur chuckled. Grinning, he ran a proprietary hand over Merlin's ass before swatting him sharply. Merlin yelped and jumped up in indignation, and Arthur laughed.

“Come on, lunch break's over. Back to work!”

Merlin gawked at him silently, before shutting his mouth with a snap and awkwardly stuffing himself back into his jeans. He didn't look at Arthur as he moved tot he door, but Arthur could clearly see the flush that had exploded across his face.

Arthur sighed with satisfaction as the door slammed shut behind Merlin. Making himself as decent as possible, he grinned as he gathered up the papers he'd need for the rest of the day. He didn't usually go for repeat performances, but there was just something about Merlin…

He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but whatever it was made him want to test his growing certainty that, while it had been fun to make Merlin scream, it would be even more satisfying to gag that lovely, vocal mouth with his cock.

Humming happily to himself, he left his trailer and returned to the set.

* * *

" ... and then he smacked my ass and told me to get back to work!" Merlin wailed into his phone, free hand waving wildly for emphasis. "He ignored me for the rest of the day, and then right as I was leaving, he came up behind me, bit my neck, and told me to get a good night's sleep _because I'd need it tomorrow!_ "

Merlin paused for breath, and Freya tsked on the other end of the line. "Oh, Merlin," she said with affection. "You're such a slut."

"I know!" he wailed again, hating himself for it but unable to stop. "I know he's just using me for sex, and it's probably a horrible idea and I'll wind up heartbroken and fired and God knows what else but—Freya, it was _so good,_ he's so fucking hot, and yeah, he's an arrogant ass, but it _works_ for him, and I just want to bend over and take whatever he'll give me!"

Freya made a choking noise. "Well. That's—that's great." She hesitated. "But do you really think it's a good idea to do it again? I mean, once can be a fluke—heat of the moment, shooting a sexy scene, the whole bit—but if you do it again..." She trailed off.

"I _know,_ " Merlin said miserably. "Then it's a _thing_."

"Right." Even without seeing her, Merlin knew Freya was shaking her head sympathetically. "I know how much you love working on the show, and how lucky you were to have connections right out of school..."

"Yeah, and I've dreamed of working under Arthur Pendragon since I declared film as my major," Merlin sighed.

"Maybe not this kind of 'under,' though, right?"

"Actually..." Merlin groaned. "Right. Of course you're right. Dammit." He ran a hand through his hair. "It was a one-off, won't happen again. No matter how big and perfect his--"

"Merlin!"

"Sorry! Sorry. Not talking about his cock any more." He sighed again. "Thanks, Freya. You're a lifesaver."

"Any time, babe."

Merlin hung up and pocketed his phone resolutely. Freya was absolutely right, as usual. What had happened between him and Arthur Pendragon that afternoon was a lucky fluke, a story to be told while drunk, something to lose at 'Never Have I Ever' with. Wanting it to happen again was just stupid—desperate, needy, and pathetic. Ignoring the faint hum of satisfaction that still burned through his body, as well as the exquisite ache in his ass, he got into his car and drove away with a determined, if strained, smile on his lips.

* * *

Arthur arrived on set bright and early the next day, an unusual spring in his step. Fucking Merlin-the-gorgeous-cameraman the day before had been a stroke of genius—he'd come back to filming bursting with ideas, and the rest of the day had passed in a productive blur of directorial brilliance. Apparently Gwen and Lance had worked out their chemistry issues as well—every scene they'd shot for the rest of the afternoon had been buzzing with a charge that sent visions of Emmys dancing through his head. If only the creative boost he'd got from making Merlin scream would hold—or better yet, increase with repeat exposure—they'd blow _True Blood_ away this season for sure.

He dove into the day's work with gusto, barking orders left and right and generally running everyone on set ragged. He caught a glimpse of Merlin half way through the morning, and grinned at the way Merlin studiously avoided looking at him, no doubt pretending to be completely focused on his job. Arthur made sure to brush past Merlin at the next possible opportunity, brushing his fingers across Merlin's throat and murmuring in his ear, "Same time, same place. Gonna fuck your mouth." He didn't look back to see the effect he'd had on Merlin, but he did make three stage runners cry on the next take.

Lunchtime arrived surprisingly quickly, and Arthur headed to his trailer as soon as he'd finished a rushed conversation about the upcoming scene with the head cameraman. He fully expected Merlin to be waiting for him when he arrived—ideally in the nude—but was unpleasantly surprised to find his trailer empty. Frowning, he glanced at the clock—ten minutes into the break. Where was Merlin? He'd definitely heard Arthur's instructions...

Just as he was on the verge of losing his temper, the door to his trailer opened and Merlin came in sheepishly, shoulders hunched with embarrassment.

"Oh, thank God. Thought my balls were going to fall off," Arthur said with profound relief.

Merlin flinched. "Mr. Pen—Arthur, I—"

"Talk later," Arthur said firmly as he stepped forward, more than willing to put off Merlin's apology for being late until more important matters had been addressed.

Merlin's eyes flickered uncertainly. "But—" he tried again.

Arthur huffed as he fumbled with his fly. "Don't worry, we have plenty of time. "

Merlin opened his mouth, as though he were about to protest, and Arthur rolled his eyes—really, it wasn't a big deal, but if Merlin was _that_ eager to apologize... He stepped forward and pressed Merlin down onto his knees.

"Arthur!" Merlin gasped, flushing. Arthur smirked down at him; taking advantage of the moment, he stepped forward and slid his cock into Merlin's warm, wet mouth.

"Oh _fuck_ , that's good," he sighed with deep satisfaction as Merlin made a surprised noise. Arthur glanced down and saw that Merlin's eyes had gone almost comically wide; grinning, he thrust forward insistently into Merlin's mouth.

"You look _so good_ with your lips wrapped around my cock," he said huskily.

Merlin's eyelids fluttered shut, and he moaned. The vibrations danced over Arthur's skin, and he thrust forward again. "Start sucking," he ordered, barely able to force the words out through the wave of lust that washed over him.

Merlin moaned again, and obeyed.

Arthur buried both hands in Merlin's thick hair as Merlin sucked him down with the same enthusiasm he'd shown the day before. Arthur groaned and thrust shallowly into Merlin's mouth, hazily aware that choking Merlin by taking his mouth too roughly could put a stop to this whole thing—

But Merlin made a hungry noise and lifted up on his knees, adjusting the angle so Arthur slid all the way down his throat.

"Shit!" Taking that as a sign, Arthur abandoned all caution and began to thrust in earnest, holding Merlin's head steady and going as deep as he could. Merlin had obviously done this before—he picked up on Arthur's rhythm almost instantly, breathing when Arthur pulled out, swallowing at the peak of each thrust.

"Fuck, Merlin!" Arthur came with a cry, trying to pull out in time but only succeeding in painting Merlin's lips, cheeks and hair with his cum. He stood, panting, staring down in blissful shock as Merlin knelt in front of him, making no move to clean himself.

"Shit," Arthur growled. Grabbing Merlin's collar, he pulled him up and slammed him against the trailer door, claiming his mouth in a wet, frantic kiss and gripping Merlin's erection through his jeans. Stroking Merlin roughly, Arthur kept him pinned to the door as he trailed down Merlin's neck, alternating kisses and sharp nips as Merlin gasped and moaned under him. When he reached the mark he'd left the day before, just above Merlin's collarbone, he grinned against Merlin's skin and redoubled his efforts. Merlin came in a matter of seconds, keening under Arthur's mouth and clinging to Arthur's shoulders when his legs gave out. Smiling with satisfaction, Arthur reveled in his cries and held him up till he could stand.

Once he was sure that Merlin could stay upright on his own, Arthur pulled away and fetched a carton of handwipes.

"Here, you're a hot mess," he smirked, tossing the box to a dazed Merlin.

Merlin's flush—which was by far and away his most attractive expression, in Arthur's opinion—appeared instantly, and he ducked his head as he tried to clean himself up.

"Missed a spot." Arthur planted a wet, dirty kiss just below Merlin's ear as he opened the door. "We start again in five. Don't be late."

Squeezing Merlin's ass for good measure, Arthur left his trailer, the next scene already filming itself in his head.

* * *

"Oh my God, Freya, you should have heard his voice—he told me to start sucking and—" Merlin flailed at the phone for the second time in two days, intentionally ignoring the muffled choking noises Freya made as he related his epic failure as a human being.

"And then he jerked me off—well, kind of, he would have if I hadn't come in my pants like a _teenager_ —and kissed me on his way out and, oh hell, I don't even _know_!"

"Uh," Freya said in a slightly breathless voice. "So... is this going to be, like, a _thing,_ then?"

"How the fuck should I know?" Merlin exclaimed. "I'm obviously shit at telling him I can't do this again, so if he wants to... why the hell not?" He was dimly aware that he was yelling into the phone, but Freya—bless her—didn't mention it.

She did, however, make an unhappy noise. “Well, for starters, because you've never been able to do the casual sex thing. Remember what happened with Gwaine?”

Merlin grimaced into the phone. “It was a rebound, of course I was going to be an idiot about it. Doesn't count.”

Freya sighed. “Yeah, a rebound… from Cedric, who you knew was wrong for you from the get-go, but who you decided to date because you thought that's what people did after fucking in a bathroom.”

“When you put it like that...”

“Exactly.” He could almost see her decisive nod. “You're shit about one-night stands, and you stay with people you shouldn't. Can you see why casually fucking your boss might be a problem?”

“Technically, he's not my boss,” Merlin mumbled.

“He can get you fired, right?”

“... probably.”

“Close enough, then.”

Merlin groaned. “Dammit, Freya, he's just so… so...”

“Hot? Gay? Rich? Powerful? I know, babe, I really do.”

Freya was right, as usual—Arthur Pendragon was definitely all those things, but Merlin felt obliged to clarify nonetheless.

“He's so _talented,_ Freya. He's an _amazing_ director. And he's not going to stay in TV much longer—he's going to take the big screen by storm and blow everyone else away, I can _feel_ it, and I just want to be able to say...” He trailed off.

“What, that you had his dick in your mouth before he was famous...er?”

Merlin deflated. “That's not what I meant. It's just… he can coax such _emotion_ out of his actors, and then he can get it all to come across in a single episode. There's gotta be more to someone like that than just being a gorgeous asshole all the time, you know?”

“You just keep telling yourself that.”

Merlin sighed. “I'm being an idiot, aren't I?”

“Yup.”

“Awesome.” He sighed again. “Thanks, Freya. I needed that.”

“No problem. If you really want to express your appreciation, though, you could always take me as your date for the wrap party...”

Merlin grinned. “Your wish is my command.”

She laughed. “Hey, love to chat, but gotta run. Let me know how it goes with the gorgeous ass… hole.”

“Not helping!”

But she'd already ended the call.

* * *

The next day, everything went to shit.

Arthur raked both hands through his hair—there was no point in yelling at the crew or the actors, because it really wasn't their fault that the studio wanted them to redo the last four weeks of filming with only a week till wrap, but goddam if the temptation wasn't nearly overwhelming.

“Come on, people!” He finally gave in. “I need A-Games here! None of this B-Game shit! Can I _please_ get a camera on—“

But the camera was already in place, exactly where he wanted it. Surprised, Arthur glanced at the cameraman, and saw Merlin's blue eyes regarding him calmly. Not quite sure why he felt shaken, he turned back to the set.

“Let's get this done!”

* * *

Somehow, and Arthur would almost swear to God there had been magic involved, they'd filmed a record number of scenes during the 14-hour day. Shaking his head in pleased disbelief, Arthur paused at the door to the stage to gather the strength he'd need to make it across the parking lot to his beloved BMW, Excalibur. He really had no idea how they'd accomplished so much, but it seemed like every time he'd been about to crack, he'd caught a glimpse of Merlin, calm and collected under the pressure Arthur was putting on everyone. The sight of Merlin behind the camera, completely professional no matter what was going on around him, grounded Arthur—he'd been in the zone, extracting exactly what he'd wanted from the actors, seamlessly integrating the studio's new demands with the already-established story and character arcs. If the final takes weren't exactly good enough to qualify as some of the best TV ever filmed, they were at least good enough for goddamn HBO.

And way better than fucking _True Blood_.

When he'd crossed the lot, Arthur was so tired that he didn't register why the spot he'd left Excalibur in was empty for a good thirty seconds.

 _Tow zone after 8pm._

“Mother _fucker_!” It was 11pm, and he'd told people to get there at 7am tomorrow. He _absolutely_ did not have time to deal with this shit.

“Problem?”

The voice behind him made him jump. Merlin was standing there, staring at him quizzically. “Forget where you parked?”

Arthur ground his teeth together. “ _No._ I parked _here,_ and they fucking _towed_ me!”

Merlin made a sympathetic noise. “That sucks.” He shifted awkwardly. “Need a ride?”

Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it again. He could call a cab, true, but it would take at least fifteen minutes to get there, and he was so tired… “Sure. Thanks.”

Merlin nodded jerkily. “I'm parked over this way.” He started off across the parking lot in the other direction. Arthur followed, dimly appreciating the way his ass looked under the street lights but unable to summon up the energy to do anything about it.

It was that same lack of energy that saved him from being a complete ass when confronted with Merlin's car. “This is—? Oh.”

Merlin glared at him. “Yeah. So?”

Arthur shrugged. Calling the heap in front of him a “beater” would be an understatement, but he gave approximately two shits at that point. “It's… nice.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and snorted. “Get in, Your Highness,” he said as he unlocked and opened the door with a dramatic flourish.

Arthur settled himself gingerly onto the ancient upholstery. Merlin flopped down into the driver's seat and somehow coaxed the thing to start.

They drove in silence for a while, both exhausted from the demands of the day, Arthur struggling with how to make conversation with someone with whom the majority of his previous communication had consisted of staging directions and/or dirty talk.

Just as Arthur was resigning himself to the awkward silence, Merlin glanced over at him. “So, where am I taking you?”

Arthur stared at him. Home, obviously; was it a trick question?

Merlin smirked. “Where do you live?” he asked patiently.

Arthur fidgeted, and gave his address. Merlin's eyes widened—not quite Beverly Hills, but not far off either.

“Can you give me directions?” he asked.

The moment for innuendo came and went, so Arthur settled for sarcasm. “What, no GPS?”

Merlin chuckled. “Not with what I'm getting paid. I can't even afford a smartphone, just a moderately-intelligent one.”

Arthur's lips quirked up in a smile despite his best efforts. “Take the next right.”

* * *

By the time they reached Arthur's condo, they'd established that Arthur had got into directing because he thought it would grant him the ability to order his sister, the world-famous actress Morgana LeFey, around; that Merlin had clinched his job on Arthur's show due to being the godson of the well-known executive producer Gaius Medici; that Lance and Gwen should really just get over themselves and a) admit they were dating (or at least fucking) and b) get married and have tons of adorable babies; and that the only type of food better than Indian was Thai—with the exception of truly exquisite sushi. Arthur enjoyed their conversation more than any in his recent memory, and he was almost disappointed when Merlin pulled up outside his building.

“Um. See you tomorrow, I guess,” he said, unexpectedly hesitant all of a sudden.

Merlin looked over at him. “Want a ride to the set in the morning?”

Arthur blinked. “Sure, I guess. If it's not out of your way.”

Merlin grinned, blushing slightly. “It is, kinda, but it's okay. I don't mind.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You're sure?”

Merlin nodded, biting his lip.

Arthur exhaled softly, heat beginning to pool in his stomach despite his exhaustion. “Yeah. All right. See you in the morning. Six-thirty sharp!”

* * *

Merlin picked Arthur up perfectly on time, confessing with a sideways glance that he usually ran late so he'd got up extra early today, just to be safe. Arthur rolled his eyes and said something scathing, trying to ignore how endearing it was when Merlin blushed and snapped back. Luckily, they got to the set minutes before everyone else, so no one saw them arrive together. Normally, Arthur wouldn't give a rat's ass about who might figure out that he was fucking Merlin, but he couldn't afford to have people gossiping when their schedule was so damn tight. Merlin seemed to take it in stride when Arthur ignored him (with the exception of barking out general orders to the crew, of course), which was just further proof that Arthur was a genius—he obviously knew how to conduct the perfect hookup even when he wasn't really trying.

The only disappointment in a day filled with directorial triumphs was that, since everyone was so on fire, he didn't call a lunch break at all. People grabbed what they could in between takes, and Arthur himself existed mainly on cappuccinos and adrenaline, pushing any thoughts of... stress relief… with Merlin away, and focusing completely on his work.

By the end of the day, he was too wrapped up in riding the exhilaration of the thought that they might actually do this, they might actually get everything done on time, on budget, and even with some degree of _quality_ , to look for Merlin. He was still buzzing on the high of a successful day when he got out to the parking lot and reality crashed down on him—swearing creatively, he realized he'd completely forgotten to get some flunky or other to go get his car out of the impound.

"Need another ride?"

" _God_ , yes," Arthur sighed in relief, turning to see Merlin grinning at him from his horrible, _wonderful_ car. "You're a lifesaver," he said fervently as he flopped down into the passenger seat, and was amused to see Merlin's ears turn red.

"It's no big deal," he mumbled as they pulled away.

Arthur half-expected them to fall back into the banter they'd established the night before, but Merlin was quiet, and Arthur cleared his throat uncomfortably. Forcing himself to sit in some semblance of a relaxed pose, he studied Merlin surreptitiously as they drove through the dark streets. Merlin glanced over at him, catching his eye, blushing even harder, and just like that, the silence went from awkward to full of promise.

When they pulled up in front of Arthur's building, he put his hand on Merlin's leg, making the other man jump. "Drive around to the left," Arthur said in a low voice. "Valet parking."

Merlin glanced over at him, eyes wide, and Arthur slid his hand up Merlin's thigh and squeezed. Gulping, Merlin nodded and stepped on the gas. The car lurched forward, and Arthur chuckled.

"No rush," he said throatily. "We've got all night."

They handed the car over, and Arthur grinned at the valet's expression of horror.

"Be careful with her," Merlin deadpanned as the man took the keys gingerly, and Arthur shot him a look of approval. He led Merlin inside and past the concierge, who nodded an "Evening, Mr. Pendragon. Evening, sir." Merlin looked surprised to be acknowledged and tried to stammer out a response; Arthur rolled his eyes and pulled him over to the elevators.

They shared a car with another resident, which was the only thing that kept Arthur from slamming Merlin against the mirrored wall and seeing how many different noises he could get him to make over the course of the 10-story trip. As it was, he could barely wait until he'd unlocked his door before reaching for Merlin—

—who was across the room and looking out Arthur's window before the door had even clicked shut.

"You _live_ here?" Merlin asked in awe, staring out over the view of LA sparkling in the distance.

Arthur glanced around his condo, frowning slightly. He rarely brought guys back to his place, and this was why. His condo was immaculate in a fresh-out-of-the-display-room way; he'd lived there for almost three years, but never seemed to get around to personalizing it. He spent so little time there between work and... other activities... that he hadn't really felt the urge. Now, however, with Merlin staring around, taking in every personal detail (or lack thereof), he found himself feeling strangely exposed.

"No, I'm squatting," he snapped, and Merlin's eyes flashed to his. They stared at each other for a long moment, Arthur feeling the nearly-overwhelming urge to cross his arms and scowl but manfully resisting in the interest of not cock-blocking himself, before Merlin smiled slightly.

"It's nice," he said simply, taking a step forward, and yeah, that was a _much_ better idea. Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin with a pleased grin and grabbed his ass, pulling Merlin up against him and grinding them together.

Merlin laughed, his hands coming up to Arthur's face. "Hey, slow down! There's no rush," he said with a breathless grin. "I've been reliably informed that we have all night."

Arthur didn't see what that had to do with anything, and tried to push forward and capture Merlin's mouth, but Merlin held Arthur's head still. Eyes flickering down to Arthur's mouth and then back up to Arthur's eyes, Merlin leaned forward slightly and brushed his lips over Arthur's. Arthur tried to deepen the kiss, but Merlin pulled back—frustrated, Arthur moaned, and Merlin chuckled.

"Let me do this," he breathed, dipping his head and running his tongue lightly over Arthur's bottom lip.

Arthur rolled his eyes—it was annoying, definitely, but if that's what it would take before Arthur could have his way Merlin again, he could probably handle a couple of minutes of kissing.

Probably.

Merlin's tongue dipped in between Arthur's lips, and Arthur parted them obligingly. Merlin made a pleased noise, beginning a slow, painstaking exploration of Arthur's mouth.

And okay, so it wasn't actually that annoying after all. Arthur shut his eyes as Merlin's tongue caressed his, tightening his grip on Merlin's ass as Merlin breathed into his mouth. Merlin was hard against him and Arthur pressed them together once, twice, before Merlin pulled away again and sank to his knees.

"Fine," he smirked. "Since _some_ body's feeling a little impatient..."

Arthur wanted to snap that impatience had nothing to do with it, he just knew what he wanted and didn't see the point in wasting time, when Merlin leaned forward and pressed his lips against Arthur's fly.

"Shit!" Arthur gasped as the heat from Merlin's mouth penetrated his jeans, making his already-hard cock ache with _want_. His hands flew to Merlin's hair and his hips jerked forward.

Merlin pulled back, reaching up and removing Arthur's hands. "Nope," he said with a grin as he pressed Arthur's arms firmly back down against his sides. "Not this time. If you touch me or move at all— _at all_ , Arthur—I'll stop."

Arthur gaped at him. No, no, no. That's not how they did this—if he wanted to touch Merlin, to thrust into his perfect mouth, then by God—

Merlin's eyes twinkled as he reached up and ran his thumb over Arthur's erection. "Well?"

"O-okay," Arthur choked out. But dammit, next time he was going to—

Merlin freed him from his jeans before he finished the thought, and Arthur gasped at the feel of the cool air of his climate-controlled condo on his throbbing cock.

Merlin glanced up at him again, and pressed a wet kiss just below Arthur's head. Arthur almost—almost!—thrust forward into his open mouth, but managed to stop himself just in time.

As if he knew _exactly_ what kind of hell Arthur was going through, Merlin made an approving noise. He kissed Arthur again, and again, working his way down to Arthur's base and then back up. Arthur was panting, clenching his fists with the effort of keeping still.

"Dammit, Merlin," he growled.

Not looking up, Merlin chuckled against his cock, and the vibrations made Arthur gasp. "No rush, remember?" he murmured, before opening his mouth and swallowing Arthur down.

Arthur choked back a cry, his head falling back and his knees almost buckling as Merlin swirled his tongue around and around, almost but not quite enough pressure. Then Merlin stopped teasing and took Arthur in all the way, and Arthur saw stars.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he panted, feeling his arousal cresting. "Merlin, I'm—"

And then he wasn't, because Merlin pulled back and left him hanging.

"Merlin!" he gritted out.

Merlin surged up, capturing Arthur's mouth but keeping their hips apart, and Arthur groaned in frustration.

"Not here," Merlin breathed. "I wanna feel you come inside me."

Arthur made a choking noise—yeah, that sounded pretty good to him too. Wrapping his arms around Merlin, he started to walk him backwards towards the couch, but Merlin resisted.

"All this space, and no bedroom?" he asked lightly.

Growling—because, _really?_ —Arthur grabbed Merlin by the wrist and dragged him through the condo, flinging his bedroom door open and throwing Merlin down on the bed a tad more forcefully than was strictly necessary. Merlin didn't seem to mind, though—he wriggled onto his back and stared up at Arthur with lust-darkened eyes as Arthur climbed on top of him.

"Clothes," Merlin ordered before Arthur could do anything else. Shifting back onto his heels, Arthur reached down and stripped Merlin's shirt and jeans off, then removed his own clothes with a huff when Merlin raised an eyebrow.

Then finally—finally!—he was pushing Merlin back down into the bed, sucking hot kisses into his neck, rubbing them together as Merlin gasped and writhed beneath him. Without letting Merlin up at all, he scrabbled for his nightstand and managed to find the lube and condoms he knew he'd left there.

"Want to fuck you," he said into Merlin's mouth, and Merlin moaned.

"Yes, God, _yes_ ," he said, his hands gripping Arthur's shoulders tightly. Tilting his hips up, he wrapped one leg around Arthur's waist and pulled the other up towards his chest.

Almost blind with lust, Arthur somehow prepared himself, before slicking his fingers and circling Merlin's hole.

"No," Merlin gasped. "You. Want _you_."

" _Fuck_." And granted, Arthur was way better at giving than taking directions, but even so, he recognized a good suggestion when he heard one. Lining himself up, he pressed into Merlin in one smooth move, and Merlin cried out.

"Okay?" Arthur asked shakily, because if Merlin wasn't, he damn well needed to know _now_.

Merlin nodded shakily. "Y-yeah. You—" he gasped as Arthur hitched forward slightly. " _So good_ , God, Arthur, you're _so good_ , want you to fuck me, _hard_ , please, _please!_ "

Arthur pulled out slightly, about to do just that, when a better idea occurred to him ...

Grinning into Merlin's neck, he bit down once and lapped at the mark, before pushing back in as slowly as he possibly could. Merlin gasped and bucked up, trying to take him in faster, but Arthur held him down.

"No... rush... remember?" he panted, shaking with the strain of holding himself back. Merlin's groan made it all worth it, though, and he kissed Merlin roughly as he pulled out again.

"See how... you... like it," he growled, repeating the same, slow slide back in.

Merlin's mouth open and closed as though he was trying to speak, but all that came out was a string of desperate noises that made something warm and proud unfurl in Arthur's belly.

"You love it, don't you?" he asked, and Merlin nodded dizzily, fingers digging into Arthur's shoulders as he buried his face in Arthur's neck.

Arthur felt Merlin shake as he clung to Arthur, their chests pressed together each time Arthur bottomed out inside him. Panting, Arthur breathed in the smell of Merlin's hair, trying to distract himself long enough to make it last, but the spicy-sweet scent of Merlin just made him jerk forward helplessly.

Merlin cried out wordlessly, arching up and back into the bed, and Arthur lost it. Abandoning his attempts at self-restraint, he gave in and thrust into Merlin as hard as he could, getting faster and faster until Merlin was crying out with each thrust and Arthur was moaning along with him. He felt Merlin tighten around him, and hazily wondered if Merlin was going to finish without Arthur even touching him—

When Merlin came a heartbeat later, he clenched around Arthur like a vise, and Arthur cursed into Merlin's shoulder as he emptied himself into Merlin's tight heat.

Arthur barely managed to keep from crushing Merlin when he collapsed, still buried deep, body trembling with the aftershocks. Merlin's mouth sought his out and they kissed sloppily as Arthur wrapped Merlin in his arms, holding him tight, wanting to stay inside him as long as possible. When the pressure finally became too much, he held Merlin with one arm as he pulled out carefully, dropping the condom over the side of the bed before collapsing back down and pulling Merlin onto his chest.

Merlin pressed his nose into Arthur's neck, wrapping his arm around Arthur's waist and threading their legs together. They lay without speaking as their breathing slowed and their sweat cooled. Arthur had almost fallen asleep when he felt Merlin tense and start to pull away.

Making a noise of displeasure, Arthur tightened his grip and pulled Merlin back down.

Merlin sighed into his neck. "I should go. Gotta be up in ... God, I don't even know. Soon."

Arthur didn't let go. "Stay here," he said sleepily.

Merlin stiffened. "What?"

"Stupid to go when you're just gonna have to come back and get me in a couple hours," Arthur said through a yawn. "Still no car, remember?"

Merlin relaxed slightly. "If you're... sure..."

Arthur nodded. "'Night, Merlin," he murmured as he drifted off.

"'Night, Arthur," came the whispered reply.

* * *

It wasn't a pattern, because Arthur Pendragon didn't do patterns. Not with people. Well, technically he did have a pattern of one night stands, but he didn't do patterns with _individual_ people. He was Arthur Pendragon, unrepeatable and always original.

It was, however, both efficient and effective, which were two of his favorite adjectives. And honestly, there was no way Arthur could spare anyone to deal with his stupid car, and there was no time during the day for sex, and Arthur was just that much more brilliant when he was getting laid regularly. So of course it made sense for Merlin to stay over for the rest of the week, till they finished filming. The only time it had almost been a problem was the second night, when Merlin complained about having to wear the same clothes the third day in a row. Arthur had huffed and called a very discreet 24-hour laundry service, and that had been that. Though personally, he kind of liked the way Merlin's clothes smelled; they smelled like Merlin.

They didn't sleep much, but Arthur didn't care. He felt like he was flying through his life—he'd wake Merlin up, or Merlin would wake him up, with the clever application of mouth to body part X (usually Merlin's neck or Arthur's cock, depending), and they'd eventually make it to the shower, where they'd fight over the best spot under the water until either Merlin won by fighting dirty (because how was Arthur supposed to defend what was rightfully his with Merlin's mouth wrapped around his dick?) or Arthur won by the brilliant application of strategy and technique (and if he'd thought Merlin had made good noises that first night in his bed, that was _nothing_ compared to what he did when Arthur's tongue pressed into him, hot and pointed, as he shuddered into the tiled wall).

They'd snap at each other as they barreled out the door, each blaming the other for making them late, and Arthur would hold Merlin's chai and his cappuccino as they pulled away from the drive-through Starbucks, not even trying to hide how pleased he was that he'd won again by not letting Merlin pay. They'd park behind the set and walk on from different entrances, not acknowledging each other in any way other than professionally for the entire day. But Arthur was always aware of Merlin, of course, and he'd ruthlessly channel his (however temporary) sexual frustration into directing, pulling performances out of his cast that would have bankrupted them with FCC fines for indecency if they'd been a network channel.

By the time they'd get back to Arthur's place, they'd have accumulated a fairly respectable repository of lust that would have to be emptied completely before they could even start thinking about sleep. Luckily, Arthur was amazing at everything lust-related, and Merlin was very appreciative. They'd collapse around each other for a few precious hours of sleep before the sun rose, and it would all start over again.

Arthur learned that Merlin slept like a cat, taking up way more space than was technically physically possible given his body mass. He learned that the neck thing was no joke; if anything, Merlin just seemed to get more responsive each time. And he learned that Merlin's feet were always cold but his mouth was always hot, that he sometimes talked in his sleep, and that he was almost better at kissing while still mostly asleep than while awake.

Almost.

He also learned how everyone on the crew looked to Merlin no matter what their actual job was, even if it was just for a small smile of encouragement, and how Merlin was completely unflappable when he was behind a camera but would blush like a schoolboy when Arthur told him on the drive home exactly what he was going to do to Merlin when they got up to his place.

All in all, it was enough to make Arthur stop worrying about his reputation and just go with it, enjoying the positive effect his love life was obviously having on his levels of both directing prowess and stress (never been higher and never been lower, respectively).

At least, it was enough to make him stop worrying until the afternoon of the second-to-last day of filming, when Morgana texted to tell him that he would be taking her as his date to the wrap party tomorrow because she wanted to surprise Gwen, and she knew that otherwise he'd just be taking some useless, starstruck boy-toy.

* * *

"...and then yesterday I was looking for my underwear, and I checked under the bed, and he has—oh my God, Freya, I can't even—he has a bright red, stuffed dragon that he's had since he was five, and he named it Penn! Penn the Dragon! Because—"

On the other end of the phone, Freya sighed. "Yeah, 'cause he's a Pendragon, it's adorable, I get it. But Merlin—" She paused, and he could almost see her biting her lip, "you're still being careful, aren't you? It's awesome that you've been getting so much action, but he's not… I mean, have you guys talked about it? Like, at all?"

Merlin felt his good mood vanish. "Well ... we haven't talked, exactly, but that doesn't—" He stopped. "Listen, I know you're worried, but this is ... I've never felt like this before, Freya. About _anyone_. And it's not just the sex—even though _that's_ fucking _amazing,_ believe me—it's also the little things, you know? Like, how he remembered my Starbucks order after the first time, and how he looks at me when—" He stopped again, blushing. "It's just, it feels so _right_ , and I think he feels the same way, I really do. I know he doesn't want people to know about us while we're still filming because he doesn't want them wasting time watching us for gossip material, but... maybe at the wrap party..."

"Are you guys going together?" Freya's voice was tight.

Merlin grinned. "No, stupid, you're my date, remember?"

Freya laughed. "Oh, _I_ remember, just wanted to make sure _you_ did. You _have_ to introduce me to Gwen."

"I will, promise. And Arthur. And then you'll see what I mean. It'll be great."

"Fine, I'll reserve my judgment of this whole thing till I meet him, but only because I love you so. Hey, aren't you supposed to be, I dunno, doing your job, or something?"

"Yeah, ten minute break ... which is over in thirty seconds. Thanks Freya, I'll pick you up tomorrow at eight."

"Awesome, see ya then."

* * *

Arthur sank back into the pillows with a sigh as Merlin collapsed bonelessly on top of him. He'd had Merlin ride him, and the sight of Merlin's long, pale form arching back against Arthur's bent legs had been one of the hottest things he'd ever seen. He'd loved the way Merlin's throat had worked as his entire body quivered with each of Arthur's thrusts, and they'd both come almost embarrassingly quickly.

Now, Merlin burrowed in next to him with a happy sigh, and Arthur smiled as he wrapped his arm around Merlin's shoulders.

Tomorrow was the last day of filming, and goddamn if they weren't right on schedule and cranking out some fucking fantastic shit besides. It really was some kind of magic, the way they'd been able to pull it off. Everyone had been amazing, and even though Arthur wasn't normally one for effusive praise, he'd already started composing his thank-you speech to the cast and crew, to be delivered at the wrap party after consuming enough alcohol for plausible deniability.

"...wrap party. How about you?"

Arthur belatedly realized that Merlin was mumbling something into his shoulder. "Hmm?"

Merlin turned his face up and kissed Arthur's jaw. "I said, I'm taking my friend Freya as my date to the wrap party. How about you?"

Arthur shifted, frowning slightly. "Morgana."

"Wait, Morgana LeFey? The—"

"—bane of my existence? That's the one." He sighed. "Don't let her charming interviews fool you, my sister's a complete harpy."

He felt Merlin grin. "Freya's gonna _flip shit_. I already promised to introduce her to Gwen and you, and now she might get to meet Morgana LeFey too..."

Arthur's frown deepened. "I'm sure Morgana would like that, but... you didn't tell your friend that we're... did you? Because if Morgana finds out ..." She'd tease him mercilessly for being such a manwhore, like she always did. Usually, it didn't bother him—it actually made him feel like some kind of sex king—but for some reason, the idea of her making fun of him and Merlin set his teeth on edge.

"Um. Yeah. But she's my best friend, and she won't say anything if I ask her not to..." He trailed off, shoulders tensing. "You really don't want anyone to know about us, do you?" he asked quietly. "Because I was kind of hoping... now that we're done filming..."

Arthur closed his eyes. And yeah, okay, so maybe this wasn't a complete shock—but he'd really been hoping that this time would be different, that he could have this... whatever it was... with Merlin without it turning into the kind of thing they needed to _talk_ about, or tell people about, or worry about at all...

"There's no 'us,' Merlin," he said, more harshly than he meant to. "We're just fucking. That's all." He ignored the small pang in his stomach as he spoke, but he couldn't ignore the way Merlin's entire body went rigid in his arms.

"Oh," Merlin said in a tiny voice. "Yeah. Right. Of course." He started to pull away, and Arthur fought down a sudden wave of panic.

"Where are you—?"

Pulling out of Arthur's arms entirely, Merlin slipped over the side of the bed. "Home," he said shortly. "I want to actually get some sleep tonight."

"You can sleep here,” Arthur said, frowning as Merlin ignored the obvious.

"Thanks, but what's the point? We're just fucking, and we just fucked, so." He pulled on his jeans and stood, ducking his head and not looking at Arthur.

"Merlin—” Arthur barely stopped himself from reaching out towards him, because this whole thing was completely ridiculous. "Don't be like that..."

"Be like what?" Merlin's tone was sharp. "I'm not being like anything. We both got what we wanted, and there's obviously no reason to stick around, so I'm gonna go sleep in my own bed for a change."

Arthur made a frustrated noise. "Merlin—"

"'Bye, Arthur," Merlin snapped as he left the room.

Arthur heard the door to his condo shut, and almost went after him—

But that would be stupid. This was never going to be anything more than sex, because that was all he'd wanted from Merlin, and if Merlin decided to start having issues with that now, it was his own problem.

Sighing, Arthur sank back into bed. It's not like he needed Merlin anymore, after all. They'd finish filming tomorrow and then Arthur'd have a couple months off. Plenty of time to invest in some new, exciting experiences.

He rolled over, trying to decide what he should look for next. No matter how narcissistic Morgana accused him of being, he'd never really gone for blondes... maybe a redhead?

Shutting his eyes, he tried to imagine it. Yeah. That would be awesome.

He felt himself drifting off, even while trying to visualize a new fling. And if just before he fell asleep, his imaginary conquest morphed into a now-familiar pair of blue eyes, dark hair, and gorgeous, pale skin, he was out before he could register the change.

* * *

“You were right.” Merlin's tone was flat.

From the corner of his eye, Merlin saw Freya glance over at him as she buckled up, and heard her sigh.

“You had a talk with Arthur-the-asshole?”

“Yep.”

“And it was just sex?”

“Uh huh.”

She sighed again. “Well, damn.”

“Agreed.” He pulled away from the curb. She reached out and put her hand on his arm.

“We don't have to go,” she said gently.

Merlin forced a smile. “Bullshit. I promised to introduce you to Gwen.”

“I know … but if it's gonna be too hard for you ...”

He glanced over at her for a split-second. “I made it through filming today. This won't be much different. I mean, yeah, it's gonna suck, but it really is all my fault.”

“Merlin—”

“No, really,” he insisted. “You were right and I ignored you. Also, I started reading into things without even bothering to talk to about it with Arthur, and I knew what I was getting into from the start...” He laughed humorlessly. “Maybe this time I'll actually learn, right?”

Freya made a sympathetic noise. “Okay. But if you need to leave early, just let me know.”

* * *

A little over two hours later, Merlin sighed into the bottom of his empty bottle of Coke, debating whether or not it was too soon to have another beer. The party had started off fine; Arthur hadn’t been there when they arrived but Gwen and Lance had, and he'd introduced a blushing Freya to them to the delight of all. Gwen and Freya had really hit it off, and he'd been chatting with some other crew members, when Arthur swanned in with Morgana.

Everyone had been thrilled to see them, of course, but especially Gwen—she and Morgana attached themselves to each other like schoolgirls and rushed off into a private corner to ‘catch up,’ with Gwen pausing to snag Freya on the way. Now the three of them were laughing and talking like old friends, leaving Merlin without a buffer when Arthur caught and held his gaze.

The glance only lasted for a moment before Arthur turned away, but Merlin felt like he'd been stabbed—Arthur looked absolutely amazing, his jeans and shirt perfectly tailored, and every hair in place. Merlin was wearing a dark blue button down and black slim-cut jeans himself, but he felt completely ridiculous and shabby when compared with Arthur's effortless perfection.

Sighing, he fled to the restroom in an attempt to clear his head of the image of Arthur, and to remind himself that he'd made the right choice in leaving the night before.

He was staring at his own flushed face in the mirror when the bathroom door opened and Arthur slipped in.

Fuck.

They stared at each other for a minute as the tension grew. When it was almost too much to bear, Merlin bit his lip.

“Look, I'm sorry,” he said, looking at the floor. “It was a dick move to run out like that last night, when it wasn't actually your fault at all.”

Arthur made a surprised noise, and Merlin glanced up at him.

“So you're not pissed at me?” Arthur asked with a small smile.

Merlin sighed and shook his head. “No, like I said, I know it wasn't not your fault. It's just—”

“Oh, thank God,” Arthur said, surging forward and pushing Merlin back against the wall. “Because you look fucking _edible_ tonight, and there's no way I was gonna make it through the rest of the party without—” Abandoning speech, he ducked in to press his lips to Merlin's…

…but Merlin forced himself to turn away, and Arthur's kiss landed on his ear instead.

“Huh,” Arthur chuckled. “Guess that works, too.” Pulling back, he moved as though resetting himself, but Merlin pushed him away.

“Arthur, stop,” he said in a voice that only shook a little.

Arthur looked puzzled, but didn't close in again. “What? Why?”

Merlin ran his hands through his hair, taking a deep breath. “What I was _trying_ to tell you was that I'm not mad at you because this was my fault. I should've known better, I—” He broke off with a strained laugh. “I'm shit at 'casual', okay? I thought I could handle it, I really _wanted_ to be able to handle it because you're so … _you_ , but I just … I can't.”

Arthur stared at him as he continued with increasing confidence.

“I'm not sorry I did it, because you—the sex was great. But I can't do it anymore.” He put his hands on Arthur's shoulders, looking him right in the eye. “I really like you, Arthur Pendragon,” he said regretfully, letting the truth of his feelings seep into his words. “And I hope someday you find the thing you're looking for. But I can't just be someone you fuck.” With another deep breath, he summoned up the strength to let go of Arthur, and brushed by him on his way to the door.

“See you next season,” he said in as steady a voice as he could, and was out of the bathroom before Arthur could reply.

* * *

Arthur watched the bathroom door close behind Merlin, stunned.

“But I'm _not_ looking for anything,” he protested to the empty room.

By the time he'd wiped the dazed look off his face and made it back out to the party, he couldn't see Merlin anywhere. The girl he'd come with was still talking with Morgana and Gwen—well, with Gwen, at least, but Merlin had disappeared. Arthur frowned, and absolutely did not yelp when a hand closed on his shoulder.

“Problem, brother dear?”

Turning, he glared into Morgana's smirking face. “Bite me.”

She pursed her lips in false concern, and made a soft noise. “This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain delectable cameraman who just shot out of here like his pants were on fire, would it?” she inquired innocently.

Arthur's frown was definitely approaching scowl territory. Apparently that friend of Merlin's had a big mouth after all. “Fuck off.”

She put her hand on his shoulder and he flinched; when she spoke again, however, her voice was gentle.

“Arthur,” she said quietly. “It's okay to go after what you want.”

Shaking her hand off, he snorted. “I'm Arthur Pendragon. I've gone after everything I want my entire life.”

Lowering her hand, she gazed at him sadly, and he looked away.

“No,” she corrected as she turned to leave, “you've only gone after everything you think you _should_ want.”

* * *

“... no, really, Freya, 'm fine … abs'lutely fuckin' _drunk,_ but I took a cab so s'alright. You should stay long's you want, I'm prolly just gonna pass out soon...”

As he spoke, Merlin gestured around his empty apartment with the partly-full bottle of two-buck Chuck left over from his and Will's housewarming party the year before. Will, his BFF from childhood and current roommate, was on tour with his indie cover band somewhere in the Pacific Northwest (not Portland or Seattle, Merlin would have remembered that and asked for beer and/or coffee-related souvenirs), leaving Merlin with the freedom to get completely smashed with no shame at all. And honestly, after the utter fucked-upness of the day, nothing seemed like a better idea.

The two-buck Chuck was down to a resale value of maybe twenty-five cents when he heard an annoyed-sounding knock on the door. Grumbling, he staggered over and unlocked the deadbolt, peering out warily. “Whozzit? Freya?”

Arthur's blue eyes stared back at him, and he stumbled backwards in confusion. “Fuck, bad wine,” he moaned, hand flying to his eyes to banish the hallucination.

Then there was an arm around his shoulders and another around his waist, and he was being maneuvered slowly but firmly back into his apartment and towards his bedroom. “Shit, Merlin, you're trashed,” came Arthur's voice in his ear.

Merlin batted at him in irritation. “G'way 'n' let me black out in peace,” he snapped.

Arthur chuckled, his breath ghosting across Merlin's cheek. “Not gonna happen.”

Merlin wanted to retort with something suitably scathing, but the floor started hiccuping and he ended up clinging to Arthur instead. Arthur huffed another laugh into his hair and dragged him into his bedroom, and the last thing Merlin remembered was falling face-first into his pillow.

* * *

Merlin woke up with a pounding head, a dry and disgusting mouth, and the disconcerting feeling that something important had happened last night, if he could only remember it. Sitting up blearily, his eyes fell on a tall glass of water and a bottle of Advil that he must have found before passing out. Tossing back several pills, he flopped back down onto the bed and tried to remember what had happened the night before.

Wrap party. Check. Awkward bathroom encounter with Arthur. Check. Finally being able to walk away from Arthur, and then getting pathetically drunk at home, alone. Check. Weird wine-dream that Arthur had shown up and put him to bed. Check.

He sighed, taking a deep breath to calm the pounding in his head—

His pillows smelled like Arthur.

What.

Rolling over, he buried his nose in the pillowcase and inhaled.

Yeah. Shit. What?

Sitting up faster than he should, he glanced the room.

Those weren't his jeans on the floor. Or his shoes.

Oh good God.

Blushing and suddenly nervous, he flexed certain key muscles experimentally. Okay. So they hadn't fucked. Well. That was… good.

But where was Arthur now?

As if on cue, he heard a muffled curse from his kitchen. Tiptoeing out of his room, he crept down the hall and peeked around the kitchen door with no small degree of trepidation.

Arthur was standing in the middle of the room in his boxers and what had to have been a tank top of Merlin's, given the way it stretched across his broad chest. He was poking at Merlin's decrepit coffee maker and swearing softly to himself, and for a long moment, Merlin could just stare.

Then Arthur turned around, an expression of pure frustration on his face. His eyes latched on to Merlin and when he frowned, Merlin's mouth went dry.

“Do you have _any idea_ how many breakfast places I called, trying to find one that would deliver to this neighborhood?” Arthur huffed, eyes flashing. “Five! I called _five_ places, and _none_ of them come out this far! Where the hell _are_ we, Merlin?”

Merlin's mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Arthur snorted. “Never mind. How's the wine treating you?”

Merlin felt himself blushing. “Um. It's. Uh. Coffee?”

Arthur spread his arms. “It's your kitchen, be my guest.”

Not pausing to consider all the sense that was missing from that particular statement, Merlin edged into the kitchen and over to the coffeemaker, eying Arthur warily the entire time.

For his part, Arthur leaned back against the counter and seemed very interested in Merlin's coffee-making antics, staying quiet and crossing his arms until Merlin wordlessly handed him a steaming cup.

“So,” Arthur said, blowing on his coffee before taking an experimental sip.

“So,” Merlin echoed weakly, still not entirely convinced that he wasn't drunk-dreaming.

“My bed smells like you,” he blurted out after a moment.

Arthur smirked at him from over the rim of his mug. “Not surprising, seeing as I slept there last night.”

“Oh.” Merlin felt his eyebrows draw together in concern. “We didn't… did we?”

Arthur gave him a scathing look. “You passed out as soon as you hit the pillow. We didn't do _anything_.”

“Oh,” Merlin said again. He took another sip of coffee.

They drank in silence for a while, before Arthur carefully set his mug down.

“Look, Merlin—” he began.

“Why are you here?” Merlin blurted out at the same time.

They both stopped, and Arthur frowned slightly. Merlin watched the way his mouth turned down, the way his teeth caught and worried his bottom lip, the slight crease that appeared between his eyebrows.

This was _really_ not helping the whole making-the-right-decision thing.

“I'm shit at 'serious',” Arthur forced out suddenly.

Merlin blinked. “What?”

Arthur looked at him in irritation. “You asked me why I'm here. I'm here because I'm shit at 'serious'.”

Merlin blinked again. “That… makes no sense whatsoever.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “It does too, _Mer_ lin,” he snapped. Pushing away from the counter, he set his empty mug in the sink and turned back to Merlin. “When I'm shit at something that I decide I want to do, I like to… run through it. A lot. Till I get it just how I want it. That's how I got to be as amazing as I am today at… everything, honestly.” He looked at Merlin arrogantly, but Merlin saw a flicker of something—uncertainty?—in the depths of his eyes.

“Decide you want to—? Oh.” Merlin said. “ _Oh._ ”

The corner of Arthur's mouth twitched up in a small smile. “Yes, _oh_ ,” he repeated, but his voice was soft. “And I was kind of hoping that you'd be willing to… run through it with me.” He took a step forward, into Merlin's space.

Merlin felt himself starting to blush, but he didn't back away. “Hmm.” Looking Arthur straight in the eye, he grinned and raised an eyebrow. “It doesn't come with a script.”

Arthur laughed. “I know.”

“And,” Merlin continued, “not all the camera angles will be flattering.”

Arthur laughed again, and moved in closer. “I have no bad angles,” he murmured, wrapping his arms loosely around Merlin's waist.

Merlin's grin widened. “You'd be surprised what a camera can uncover.”

Arthur chuckled softly, leaning forward and brushing his lips over Merlin. “Good thing I'm not an actor, then… but even so, I'm pretty sure I could pass the screen test.”

“Mmm.” Merlin was noncommittal. Arthur smiled against his lips, and Merlin just couldn't resist one last shot.

“But it's not enough to just be good at what you do,” he insisted. “You have to be easy to work with.” Pulling back, he looked Arthur in the eye again. “So, how well can you play with others?”

Arthur grinned at him, sweet and hopeful and feral all at once.

“Let me show you,” he growled, eyes twinkling.

And he did.

 

(Really, _True Blood_ never even stood a chance).

 

 **Fin**


End file.
